


AND MAYBE... MORE

by ksstarfire



Category: Starsky and Hutch - Fandom
Genre: Angst, M/M, Partners to Lovers, first time.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 22:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13305093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ksstarfire/pseuds/ksstarfire
Summary: An old flame reappearing may smother a new fire.





	AND MAYBE... MORE

Hutch didn’t remember leaving Metro, or getting in his car. He didn’t remember stopping at the liquor store, nor what he had bought. He found himself at the bottom of the stairs to his apartment, holding a large, heavy paper bag, but didn’t remember getting out of his car.

He was numb.

Walking into his apartment, he quietly closed the door behind him.  It had taken every ounce of strength he had to climb the stairs. Placing the bag on the floor, he shrugged out of his jacket and holstered gun. He hung the jacket on the coat tree just inside his door. Holding the holster in his hands, he pulled his magnum out of it, and then tried to hang the holster with his jacket. When it fell to the floor, he left it there. He leaned back against the door and slid down it to settle on the floor.

He closed his eyes, and then lowered his head, shoulders bowing under the weight of his grief and pain. As the tears flowed unchecked down his face to drip on his shirt, he bit his lower lip. He finally lost the battle to keep the pain locked silently inside. His shoulders shook with the force of his sorrow as he groaned with shuddering sobs.

He was lost.

It felt like he had been stabbed in the heart.

A fatal strike.

Given by the one person he had trusted most.

A betrayal so deep he didn’t know if he could or would survive it.

“S… S… Starsky… why?” he moaned as he put the gun on the floor beside him and buried his face in his hands.

~*~*~*~*~

A few miles away, Starsky ushered the ravishing woman into his bedroom. He bumped into the door frame because they hadn’t stopped kissing as they left the couch for the comfort of his bed. His suit and her evening gown had fallen to the floor, leaving a trail.

When they made it to the side of the bed he reached down, pulling the velvet quilt and top sheet down. He never broke the kiss while he did this. He quickly returned his hands to the soft and supple skin of the woman, eliciting moans and gasps. Pushing his hard cock against her pubis, he felt like he might orgasm right then.

He opened his eyes and smiled down into her gorgeous blue eyes…

Wait! What?

Her eyes were a vivid green, not blue!

He shook his head and closed his eyes again, grabbing hold of her upper arms and pulling her tightly-muscled body…

“OUCH! Easy, Dave!”

Starsky stepped back a step. “Sorry, ba… Marianne. Guess I’m more tired than I thought.” He stood there, trying to figure out how things had gone so wrong so quickly. A woman he had lusted after for nearly a year had finally agreed to a date. They should be in the middle of his bed right now. In the middle of mind blowing sex.

So, why was he suddenly seeing Hutch when he closed his eyes, instead of Marianne? Why was it Hutch’s body he wanted to be pulling close? Pressing tightly against all that golden skin, feeling the rippling muscles against his body.

He was in trouble here. How was he going to gracefully end this date?

The ringing of the phone answered his prayers. “I have to get this. Hutch and I are on call all weekend. Sorry.”

He picked up the receiver, walking a few steps away for privacy. He had hoped it was Hutch calling, but instead, heard some obviously inebriated guy trying to order pizza. “Yeah, Captain Dobey, I can swing by and pick him up. We can be there in twenty minutes or less. Yes, Sir, right away.”

He turned to find his date slipping back into her clothing. “I’m sorry, Marianne. We… I have to go to work.” He grabbed his robe from the closet and shrugged into it. “Maybe next weekend we can try again?”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath, Dave. I don’t know  _who_ you thought you were making love to, but it sure as hell wasn’t me. Your loss.”

Starsky watched her stomp out of his apartment, slamming the door on her way out. He had a momentary feeling of regret, but mostly, he felt happy. He felt like he had dodged a bullet.

As he took a quick shower to wash off her cloying perfume, he was thankful that he could spend some time with Hutch tonight. Things had gotten very interesting on their shift today. And might have become even more interesting had Marianne not shown up at Metro when she had.

He dried off and grabbed his most comfortable pair of jeans. He pulled on the red shirt Hutch had given him for his last birthday and dashed out the door. Once in the Torino and on his way to Hutch’s, he thought about what had happened earlier in the day.

_~*~*~*~*~_

_“I don’t get it, Hutch. The store owner said no one called in a robbery in progress from his store.” Starsky looked over at Hutch. His partner seemed to be deep in thought. “You okay? Seemed like you were a bit jumpy once he said no one had called.”_

_Looking at Starsky, as if surprised to find him walking by his side, Hutch shrugged. “Don’t know, Starsk… just something... off. I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s not right.” He glanced up at the hat Starsky had purchased in the store. “Including that hat!” He laughed at the offended look on Starsky’s face._

_“You’re gonna wish you had bought one, too!”_

_They were near the entrance to an alley, when Hutch froze. Starsky almost ran into him. “Say something when you’re gonna stop suddenly!”_

_Hutch grabbed Starsky’s arm and pulled him into the alley behind him. “Run!”_

_“Wha…?” Starsky trusted Hutch, so he ran down the alley beside him. Explanations could wait._

_They came to an abrupt halt when they realized the alley was a dead end. Whirling around each looked for a way out, or somewhere to hide._

_“Here! Follow me!” Hutch headed back the way they had come and pulled open a door between two dumpsters. “Hurry, Starsk!” He had glanced at the entrance to the alley and saw two large men, both with guns drawn, heading down the alley._

_They had to stand inside the door for a few precious seconds to let their eyes adjust to the darkness inside the building. Loud, pulse-pounding music assaulted their ears, which made talking nearly impossible. Hutch took his arm and steered him into the dark bar. He kept walking until they reached the center of the room. Glancing around_ _quickly, he pulled his partner toward one wall where the darkness of the bar seemed darkest._

_He grabbed the hat off Starsky’s head and put it on his, tucking his blond hair under it. When Starsky began to protest, Hutch pushed him against the wall and stepped forward until his body was pressed to Starsky’s. When Starsky tried to shove him aside, Hutch grabbed his wrists and pinned his hands to the wall over his head._

_He put his lips against Starsky’s ear and hissed, “Stand still! There are two men in the alley. I’m pretty sure I saw two more in a car outside that store. We can’t leave by either exit, so go along with me.”_

_When he felt his partner’s small nod, he shoved one of his legs between Starsky’s, bringing their crotches into intimate contact. He moved his mouth to the mouth that had opened to protest the position of his leg. He pressed his tongue into Starsky’s mouth and proceeded to kiss him like their lives depended on it… which they probably did._

_As he kissed him, he slipped his gun out of his holster and tucked it under Starsky’s jacket, in the back of his jeans. Then he slipped Starsky’s gun out and tucked it into the side of his jeans, so they would each have quicker access to them, in case Hutch’s ploy didn’t work._

_He never stopped kissing Starsky. Standing in front of him like this, he hoped the gunmen wouldn’t be able to see his partner. And he hoped the cap would keep them from seeing his blond hair._

_Starsky didn’t know what the hell Hutch was doing, but he had to go along with him for now. He managed a quick peek around one large shoulder and saw two men slowly working their way  through the bar, peering into the darkness, as if looking for someone. He barely had a glimpse, when the hand not holding his wrists above his head was fisted in his hair, pulling his face back in front of Hutch, hiding it. Hutch’s kisses became fiercer in nature._

_Suddenly, he felt Hutch rocking his hips against him. He felt Hutch’s cock, which was very hard, pushing against his groin. He heard some men at a nearby table laughing and heard one say, “You show him who’s boss!”_

_Never letting up his assault on Starsky’s mouth, Hutch realized how turned on he was. He couldn’t stop now and take a step back. He knew the men were still searching the dark club, looking for them._

_But he also couldn’t stop because he didn’t want to. Not ever. Kissing his partner was everything he had ever thought and fantasized it would be. And more. This had suddenly become about more than just keeping some goons from shooting them. This was about taking a step he had only ever dreamed about._

_Feeling his own cock responding to Hutch’s movements, Starsky didn’t know what to do. Sure, he’d thought about what it would be like, but he’d never have dared to initiate anything like this. He wondered why they were getting away with what they were doing in a public place. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw two men at the table next to them kissing each other._

_It dawned on him… they were in a gay bar._

_Closing his eyes, Starsky stopped thinking when Hutch changed how he was kissing him. His kisses were gentler, softer somehow. And he was nipping at his lips, then bathing them with his tongue. No woman had ever kissed him the way Hutch was kissing him. No woman had ever made him as hot as quickly… not even Marianne. He was thrusting his hips against Hutch, wishing they were somewhere private so they could explore this further._

_Pulling his mouth away from Starsky’s, Hutch rested his forehead against his partner’s. He was panting and barely holding onto his control. He jumped when one of the men at the table next to them patted him on the arm. Looking at him, and sliding his hand to his gun tucked behind Starsky, he said, “What?”_

_“Those two men, who followed you in here, left. Thought you might want to know.” He paused and looked at Starsky. “Then again, maybe you and Curly there want to finish what you started? No one here will mind. Fact is, most will probably cheer you guys on! You two are smokin’ hot!” He laughed and turned back to his buddies._

_Hutch could feel his face heat with a blush. He thought about how lucky he was that it was so dark in the bar. But Hutch had turned loose of Starsky’s hands and he felt one of them land on his right cheek._

_“Yeah, you’re blushing!” Starsky laughed._

_Hutch realized he was still welded against his partner’s body. He started to take a step back, but the hand on his cheek moved around to cradle the back of his neck and he found himself being pulled in and kissed by Starsky._

_Starsky broke the kiss and said, “Wanted to make sure those goons were far enough away.” He leaned in, kissed Hutch on the nose and gently pushed him away. “Let’s get outta here, babe. I think we got some talkin’ to do.”_

_They decided to leave by the same door they had entered because the Torino was closer than if they left by the front door. So they carefully made their way into the alley and toward the street. Both had their guns in their hands, but they didn’t see any of the goons._

_They slid into the Torino and Starsky started it up. He headed to Metro so they could make a report about the false call and ambush. As he drove he kept stealing glances at his partner. Each time he looked at Hutch, he caught Hutch looking back at him. Hutch would blush and look away._

_“Hutch…”_

_“Not now, Starsk. After we file our reports. Then we can talk. Okay?”_

_“Yeah. Okay. But we ARE going to talk.”_

_Hutch nodded. “I hope we are going to talk… and maybe... more?” He blushed again as he looked at Starsky’s face._

_“Oh, Baby Blue, I think ‘more’ is definitely on the agenda!”_

~*~*~*~*~

_They had finished their reports and were about to leave. As they were typing, each would glance at the other then look away. Both had a look of wonder and excitement in their eyes. Both were anticipating their talk… and ‘more’. Hutch took the last of their reports into Captain Dobey’s office and put them on his desk. As he was walking back into the squad room, he heard a woman yell Starsky’s name. He watched as Starsky looked up and then rounded the desk to catch the woman in his arms as she ran to him._

_She was beyond beautiful. She had glossy, dark auburn hair that flowed in soft curls down to the middle of her back. Her eyes were a deep and vibrant green. He had never seen a more beautiful woman. And she was currently wrapped up in his smiling partner’s arms. As Hutch continued to watch, she framed his face with her hands and leaned in to kiss Starsky with fire and passion. And Starsky was returning the kiss, with the same passion and fire. Hutch started to turn to go back into Dobey’s office to give them some privacy._

_“Hutch! This is Marianne. We met about a year ago. I’ve been trying to get her to go out with me ever since, but she kept turning me down. Can you believe that?”_

_Smiling, Hutch held out his hand and said, “Hello, Marianne. I’m Hutch, his partner. Nice to meet you. And I don’t blame you for turning him down!” He laughed, but she stared at him like he was something she had scraped off her shoe. She didn’t reach out to take his hand. She instead kept her arms around Starsky._

_“Let’s go, Dave. I made reservations at that new place, The Penthouse. We need to be there in thirty minutes. Grab your coat and let’s go! You need to put on a nice suit. You do have a nice suit? Well, of course you do!” She ran her long red nails down the t-shirt covering his chest. “I’ve wanted to go there, but I wanted to wait and go with someone special.” She leaned in and kissed him again._

_Starsky looked shell-shocked. He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the ravishing woman in his arms. Hutch started to remind Starsky about the plans they had made, but Starsky cut him off._

_“You don’t mind, do you, buddy?”_

_He noticed his partner hadn’t even looked at him as he asked that. He closed his eyes and swallowed. He grabbed his jacket, walked past them and said, “No. Why would I mind?” He quickly exited the room._

~*~*~*~*~

Starsky winced as he remembered how badly he had treated Hutch. He owed his partner more than one apology. He couldn’t believe the mistake he had _almost_ made. And the mistake he _had_ made.

He had to get to Hutch, and hope he would forgive him for being an idiot.

Slapping the MARs light on the roof and turning on the siren, he pushed the Torino to get to Hutch’s as fast as it could.

~*~*~*~*~

Hutch got to his feet. He grabbed the bag and his gun. Walking to the couch, he put gun and bag on the coffee table. He walked slowly into the kitchen. Grabbing a bowl from the dish drainer, he filled it with ice. A glass completed his needs and he made his way back to the living room. He removed the bottles from the sack and placed them on the table. Tossing some ice cubes in the glass, he filled it to the brim with whiskey.

“To you, Starsk. You and Marianne. May she be everything you hoped she’d be.” Raising his glass in the air, he finished his toast, “And may what might have been, be as easily forgotten as I was.” He brought the glass to his lips and swallowed half of the liquor before he stopped drinking.

Filling the glass back up, he raised it for another toast. “May she give you everything I apparently couldn’t. Not that you gave me a chance.” This time he drained the glass, ignoring the burn as he swallowed.

By the time the first bottle of whiskey was empty, he had run out of toasts. The second bottle was quickly consumed. He reached for the third bottle, but missed it, his hand knocking if off the table. It hit the rug and rolled almost over to the kitchen counter. He stared at it. It seemed to be miles away. Instead of trying to get up to walk over and pick it up, he pulled the six pack of beer out of the sack.

He opened a can and took a deep swallow. He closed his eyes, wondering why they were burning so badly. He reached up to rub them, and found tears were still streaming down his face. Thinking he was losing too much fluid from all the tears he was crying, he finished off the first beer, and then grabbed another. He made it through one more beer before his stomach rebelled.

Managing to grab the trash can that sat at one end of the sofa, he vomited.

And he cried even harder.

His gun was lying on the table in front of him. Why was it there? It should be in his holster. He picked the gun up. Briefly he thought, ‘I wasn’t really thinking of shooting myself… was I?’ Where was his holster? He tried to look over his shoulder and that action made his body fall heavily to the side. He kept a hold on his gun until his hand hit the arm of the couch when he fell. His right temple hit the wood trim on the back of his couch as his body fell over and his vision greyed out. He heard his gun hit the floor as he lost consciousness. Blood dripped from a cut to his right temple, forming a small pool on the floor next to his gun.

~*~*~*~*~

Parking his car behind Hutch’s battered Galaxy; Starsky looked up to see light coming through the windows of the apartment. He quickly walked up the stairs. Listening at the door, he didn’t hear any sounds. Maybe Hutch was asleep. He tried the door and found it unlocked.

When he entered, his foot kicked something lying on the floor just inside the doorway. Looking down, he saw it was Hutch’s holster. He picked it up, realized the gun wasn’t in it, and hung it on the coat tree. He looked over at the couch and saw Hutch slumped over one end of it. His arm and shoulders were leaning over the edge.

“Hutch?” When he didn’t receive an answer, he stepped closer. He saw the empty whiskey bottles and beer cans on the table. “Damn, babe, you really tied one on, didn’t you?”

He stepped around the end of the couch and froze.

Hutch’s gun was on the floor. But it was the blood pooled by it that almost stopped his heart.

“HUTCH!” He moved to the front of the couch and pulled Hutch upright. Blood was dripping from his right temple. Starsky was frantic. “What did you do, Hutch?” He ran to the kitchen, almost tripping on a full bottle of whiskey that was lying on the floor. He grabbed a towel, wet it and hurried back to his partner. He pressed the towel against Hutch’s temple and applied pressure. He was reaching for the phone to call for an ambulance when he heard Hutch moan.

“Hutch? Can you hear me? What happened?”

Hutch tried to swat Starsky’s hands away. “Oww… stop… go ‘way…”

When Starsky pulled the wet towel away from his partner’s temple, he almost fainted in relief when he realized the blood wasn’t from a gunshot wound. He quickly cleaned the blood from his face. It could use a bandage, but that could wait. He got Hutch sitting more or less upright and pulled the throw off the back of the couch to wrap around him.

“What the hell, buddy?”

Deciding to try to get Hutch into the bedroom, he grabbed him under the arms and pulled him to the edge of the couch. Getting under one arm, he managed to stand him up. Hutch swatted at him and mumbled, but Starsky was finally able to half walk, half drag him into the bedroom. He stripped off the blood-splattered clothing and laid Hutch down on his bed. He pulled the covers out from under him and covered him up. But not before his eyes took in the vision of golden skin covering toned muscles. He closed his eyes and remembered why he was standing by Hutch’s bed.

Walking into the bathroom, he carried Hutch’s first aid kit back to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. He carefully cleaned the cut on his temple and put a small dressing over it. He sat there looking down at Hutch’s pale face. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “God, babe, I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

~*~*~*~*~

Starsky walked back into the living room. He saw Hutch’s gun and picked it up. He put it back in the holster and laid it on the couch.  He picked up the trash can to toss the cans and bottles into. He saw that Hutch had used the trash can when he had gotten sick. Glancing toward the bedroom, he made a decision. He slipped off his jacket and took off his holster. Taking the trash can and both guns downstairs, he tossed the trashcan into the dumpster. He locked both guns in the trunk of Torino.

When he walked back upstairs, he walked over and stood in the bedroom doorway. Hutch was still lying as Starsky had left him. “Rest, Hutch. We got a lot to talk about when you wake up.”

Walking back into the living room, he picked up the errant bottle of whiskey and placed it under the sink so it wouldn’t be in view when Hutch got up. He cleaned up the blood on the floor then sat on the couch. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw what might have happened because of his stupidity. What if…? Shaking his head, he reclined on the sofa and pulled the throw over himself.

It took some time for him to fall asleep. Scenarios kept flickering through his mind. All of them bad. He might have lost Hutch forever because of what he had done. He still might lose him as a partner because of it. 

He finally dozed off; sleeping lightly to listen In case Hutch got sick.

An hour later, he heard Hutch moaning. Thinking he was sick, Starsky hurried into the bedroom. He saw his partner moving restlessly on the bed and moaning. He had thrown the covers off.

“No… go ‘way… no…  no… I didn’t mean… no… please… Starsk… Don’t… “

Sitting on the side of the bed, Starsky placed his hand in the middle of Hutch’s chest. He rubbed light circles there. He murmured, “Easy, babe. Easy. It’s okay. I’m here. Shhh… rest, just rest.”

Hutch settled and seemed to fall back into sleep. Starsky pulled the covers back over him and stood up to go back to the couch. As soon as he stood up, Hutch became restless again. Starsky thought about it, and quickly decided to strip down to his underwear and slip into the bed with Hutch. He knew Hutch would sleep if he felt Starsky’s presence. They both needed sleep, and this might be the only way either would obtain it.

He walked around the bed and slipped in behind Hutch. He moved up close behind him, molding his body against Hutch’s back. He wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer. He rubbed his chest again and whispered for him to sleep. Hutch calmed and stopped moaning. After a few minutes both were deeply  asleep.

~*~*~*~*~

The first awareness Hutch had when he woke up was of being warm. And feeling safe. The second awareness was of feeling sick.

He couldn’t remember what had happened. Why did he feel so bad? Feeling arms around his body, he tried to think about who might be in bed with him. But thinking hurt too much. Deciding to just go with it, he reached up to cover the hand lying over his heart.

What the hell!?

The hand wasn’t feminine at all!

Memories began to return.

The ambush. Hiding in the darkness of the gay bar. Kissing Starsky. Their decision to pursue the passion between them.

Marianne.

Feeling his stomach revolting, he slipped out of the arms holding him and dashed to the bathroom. He slammed the door shut and fell to his knees in front of the toilet. As hard as he tried though, he couldn’t make himself throw up. Dry heaving, he felt sweat break out on his face, chest and back. He felt horrible. And lost.

The reality of what all he had lost slammed into his mind. And heart.

He would have to quit the force. He would have to move out of Bay City. 

He would have to try, somehow, to forget Starsky. Forget the feel of his body pressed against his. The kisses. The heat. The instant passion that had flared… despite the danger searching for them.

He started to shake. And quietly cry.

~*~*~*~*~

Feeling Hutch get out of the bed woke Starsky up. He heard the bathroom door slam shut, and the sound of Hutch retching. He gave him a couple of minutes,  then got out of the bed and walked to the bathroom. He opened the door and saw Hutch half-kneeling, half-sitting beside the commode.  

He grabbed a towel, wet it at the sink and slid to the floor beside Hutch. He began to wipe away the sweat from his face and neck. When he realized his partner was crying, he tried to put his arms around him.

“Shhh. Don’t cry, Hutch. It’s gonna be okay. Please, don’t cry.”

Hutch pulled away from his arms. “Get out. Leave. I don’t want you here.” He paused, then continued, “Why are you here? I thought you and Marianne would still be going at it hot and heavy. What… you thought to come over here for sloppy seconds?”

The fact that Hutch wasn’t shouting at him, made Starsky realize just how much he had hurt him. “Look, Hutch, I screwed up and…”

Hutch still didn’t yell, but his words cut through Starsky. “Get out. I don’t want to hear about you screwing her. I said get out.” He shoved at Starsky. He couldn’t bear to feel his touch. When Starsky just sat there, staring at him, he got to his feet, shakily, and stumbled out of the bathroom. He stood looking at his bed. Realizing that Starsky had been the person in bed with him, made him angry.

But the anger quickly drained out of him and the hurt took over. All he felt was resigned. Resigned to his lonely future. Without Starsky.

All he wanted to do was crawl back under his covers and sleep. Then, when his head was clearer, he needed to make plans. He couldn’t do that with Starsky in his house.

Following Hutch out of the bathroom, he watched as Hutch’s shoulders slumped. He saw the anger turn into hurt. Getting Hutch’s forgiveness wasn’t going to be as easy as he had thought it would be. If he couldn’t get him to listen and respond, what hope did he have?

Had he permanently severed their friendship?

What if…?

~*~*~*~*~

“Hutch… please… I know I messed up. Let me… I feel…”

“Just leave. Please. Just leave.” Hutch spoke quietly, with his back turned to Starsky. “You made your… feelings… or lack of them, perfectly clear yesterday.”

“No, babe, I didn’t.” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to figure out how to get through the brick walls Hutch was erecting. He had to get Hutch to open up and talk with him.

“Why did you have your gun with you when you were getting drunk?”

Hutch’s shoulders stiffened. He’d had his gun with him? He closed his eyes trying to remember. “I… I was going to clean it.” He knew Starsky probably wouldn’t buy that, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“You were going to clean your gun when you were drunk?” Starsky saw red. “Just how stupid could you be?!” He regretted saying that, but couldn’t take it back. He watched as Hutch slowly turned to face him. His face was blank. But what he said hit Starsky like a solid right hook.

Hutch turned and faced Starsky, looking him in the eyes for the first time. “I found out yesterday just how _stupid_ I could be.” He looked Starsky up and down. “Believe me, I have learned my lesson. I won’t be that _stupid_ again.” He turned his back to his partner. “You know where the door is. Please use it.”

“No.”

Whirling around, Hutch faced Starsky again. “What do you mean, ‘no’? It’s my place and I want you to leave. Now.”

“No.”

“Fine. You don’t want to leave… I will.” Hutch walked to his closet to pull out clothing to get dressed. He had to get away from Starsky. He had no other choice than to leave his own home.

As Hutch pulled open the closet door, Starsky quickly stepped up behind him. He grabbed one of Hutch’s arms, twisted it firmly behind his back and pushed him into the closet. He slammed the door shut and pulled the chair sitting to the left of the door over in front of it. He dropped down onto the chair, and braced himself for Hutch’s trying to get the door to open.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Pushing with all his strength against the door, Hutch wasn’t able to budge it at all. There wasn’t much room to get a running start, but he tried that, too. The door still didn’t move. “Starsky. Let me out of here.”

“No.”

“Starsky! Open this damn door!”

“No.”

What followed was some of the most inventive cursing he had ever heard from his partner. There were some words he had never heard anywhere outside an army barracks. At least Hutch had finally gotten angry. He was no longer being so monotone with his answers. Maybe there was hope of having a real conversation with him after all.

“Damn you! Let me out of here!”

“Will you talk with me if I do?”

“No, but I will kill you if you don’t!”

“You gotta get outta there to kill me. And for now, don’t look like that’s gonna happen.” Starsky heard Hutch start to beat on the door with his hands. He was still cursing. Starsky didn’t want his partner hurting himself, so he began to talk. He had to almost shout to be heard over all the noise Hutch was making.

~*~*~*~*~

“I’m sorry, Hutch.” The noise from the closet continued. “I messed up, big time. I don’t have a good reason for why I did what I did. She just appeared and all I could think about was how long I had wanted to go out with her. My brain was all-in… but I should have checked with my heart.”

It seemed Hutch wasn’t screaming or beating on the door anymore. Starsky sat sideways on the chair so he could make his voice clearer for Hutch to hear.

“She was in my arms and kissing me before I knew what had happened. When she said she wanted to go to The Penthouse, I agreed. I’d heard a lot about it, and thought it would be nice to dress up and go eat there.” He paused. “I… I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I wanted to spend the time with you instead. But, having sex with her had been on my mind a lot longer than having sex with you.”

When Hutch started beating on the door again, he knew he’d said that wrong. “Wait, Hutch, that didn’t come out right. Hell, I don’t know _why_ **I** did what I did. Maybe… maybe I was a little frightened by what had happened between us. But I still wanted to explore it with you.”

“Listen, Hutch. When Marianne and I got back to my place, I started to kiss her.” Starsky wasn’t going to go into detail about it. “I had closed my eyes, and I saw _blue eyes_ , in my mind. When I opened them, she had green eyes. So, I grabbed her arms and pulled her close to my body. Only… I was seeing _you_ , not her in my mind.” He let out a soft chuckle and continued, “I think I might have bruised her arms.”

“Next thing I know, she’s getting dressed and telling me, ‘I don’t know _who_ you thought you were making love to, but it wasn’t _me_!’. And she was getting dressed and slamming out of my apartment.”

There was no sound from the closet.

“And all I could think was… thank God she’s gone and I can go see Hutch. Spend time with him. Explore… well… everything… with him.”

Still nothing from the closet.

He lowered his voice and let his emotions come through as he ended where he had begun. “I’m so sorry, Hutch. Sorry I hurt you. Sorry I went out with her. Sorry that I even thought for _one second_ , that she was more important… more _anything_ … than being with you.”

When he didn’t hear anything, he pressed his hand against the door. “Hutch? Please say you forgive me. Please let me make this up to you. I am sorry. Very, very sorry that I forgot, even for a second, what you mean to me.”

Hutch had his forehead pressed to the door, along with one of his hands. Even through the wood, he could feel Starsky’s hand on the other side. He bit his lower lip and squeezed his eyes tightly closed to keep from crying again. He took a deep breath and thought about everything his partner had said.

“Starsk?”

“Yeah?”

“Open the door.”

He hesitated for a couple of seconds, then stood and moved the chair out of the way. He turned the door knob, pulled the door open a few inches, then stepped back.

Pushing the door open, Hutch took a couple of steps into the bedroom. He looked at Starsky. He saw the regret and sorrow in his eyes.

 _He also saw the love_.

~*~*~*~*~

They stood in silence for a few seconds. Looking at each other. Exchanging their apologies and forgiveness in silent communication. As they re-established their friendship… their partnership… both realized they were standing in front of each other in nothing but their underwear.

Eyes stopped looking at eyes, and began to roam the familiar, and yet exotic, expanses of skin in front of them. But looking wasn’t enough. Each took a step forward so fingers could reach out and touch. Hands began to map the known, and yet new territory. Each touch was calming and yet electrifying.

Starsky ran his left hand up to cradle Hutch’s right cheek. The move made both of them remember being in the bar. He cupped his cheek and looked straight into Hutch’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Please, say you forgive me?”

Closing his eyes briefly, he opened them and turned his head to place a kiss on the middle of Starsky’s palm. “I forgive you. How could I not? I love you.”

Feeling a tear running down his face, Starsky took in a deep breath and held it. When he released the breath, he smiled at his partner and said, “I love you, too. Thank you.”

They moved as one, closing the small distance between their bodies. As their lips met, their arms reached out to pull the other closer… and closer yet. They kissed as if they had been kissing forever. There was no hesitation or awkwardness. Just lips, and then tongues, meeting, thrusting, nipping… savoring.

Hutch gave himself over to his partner’s care. He belonged to Starsky, just as Starsky belonged to him. But, for this first time, he was willing to let Starsky take the lead. Not that he was going to be placid, by any means, but he was willing to put himself in Starsky’s hands… for now.

Starsky felt his body shaking at the gift his partner was giving him. Hutch's sweet surrender fueled his hunger... making him burn.

His kisses grew longer, deeper. It still wasn’t enough.

He fell to his knees in front of Hutch and reached out to touch the bulge under the fly of Hutch’s boxers. He smiled as Hutch jumped at the first touch. His heart was pounding in his chest. He kept his hand where it was, slowly stroking, learning the flesh under the cloth.

“Hutch?”

“Yeah, Starsk, it’s okay. Please yourself. And please me.”

Their eyes met in open honesty. The need between them demanded everything.

And ‘everything’ was what each gave.

~*~*~*~*~

Starsky was about to pull Hutch’s boxers down when Hutch stepped back, stopping him. He looked up, puzzled.

“Not here, babe. Let’s get comfortable on the bed.” Hutch smiled and reached down to help his soon-to-be-lover up.

“You’re so smart. No wonder I love you!” Starsky grinned, stood up, and walked over to the bed, arm in arm with Hutch.

Standing at the side of the bed, Hutch looked at Starsky. He slowly bent and pulled off his boxers. His cock was erect and bobbed against his stomach. Realizing that he was standing naked in front of his partner made him blush. Suddenly, he didn’t know what to do next.

Starsky saw the blush and uncertainty on Hutch’s face. Quickly stepping close to him, he pressed a kiss to his lips. His hands roamed over Hutch’s back and chest. “It’s okay, babe. It will all be okay.” He gently pushed Hutch to sit on the side of the bed, then pushed him until he was lying on his back on the bed. Seeing him like that, all golden skin, and all his, almost made Starsky come right then. He quickly stripped of his own briefs then climbed into the bed to lie beside Hutch.

“I want to touch and kiss you all over, Hutch. I’m not sure what I’m doing, but I know I want to please you.” When Hutch smiled at him and reached up to run his fingers through his hair, he ran his hand down Hutch’s chest and abdomen. Reaching the fully erect cock, he began to stroke it slowly. Bottom to top and back. He was fascinated by how his touch affected Hutch. His breathing had hitched and then become very rapid. His hips were rocking up in rhythm with his strokes.

Unable to bear just touching, Starsky bent down and licked around the head. He noticed Hutch reacted more strongly when he licked the underneath side, so he focused on that area. He kept one hand fisted around the base of the cock. Hutch reached down and took his head in his hands. He gently pushed, asking Starsky for more. Giving in to the unspoken request, Starsky took the head of the cock into his mouth. The taste was different, but not unpleasant. He quickly pulled more and more into his mouth until he felt the cock hit the back of his throat. He had to pause to keep from gagging.

Seeming to realize what was happening, Hutch stopped rocking his hips. His fingers were clenched in the sheets beside his hips. He let out a deep moan of pleasure. “God… Starsk...”

Encouraged, Starsky began to move his mouth up and down the hard shaft. Each time, he took in more and more. He realized by relaxing his throat, he could take Hutch down his throat. That action pulled a throaty groan from Hutch, and pre-come began to leak from the tip. Everything combined to make Starsky want to do more… give more to his new lover.

Soon, he was sucking for all he was worth. Enjoying pleasuring Hutch, he tried to ignore his own body’s demands for satisfaction. His cock was hard and throbbing. Moaning, he reached down to touch and stroke his own cock. He jumped when he felt Hutch’s hand replace his. With Hutch stroking him, he concentrated on bringing Hutch to climax.

A long, shuddering moan was all the warning Starsky received. Hot, salty fluid filled his mouth as Hutch arched his hips up and came. He stopped sucking, knowing how sensitive his own cock became when he orgasmed. He swallowed everything his lover gave him. Pulling off, he gently licked Hutch’s cock. He was amazed and proud that he had given such pleasure to the most important person in his life. He raised up, to look at Hutch. “Babe?”

Hutch smiled at Starsky. His eyes were full of love and tenderness. “I love you. That was perfect. Thank you.” He sat up and kissed Starsky, tasting himself on his partner’s lips. Taking Starsky’s shoulders in his hands, he gently encouraged him to lay down on the bed.

Starsky’s cock was exposed, erect and leaking, Hutch wasted no time in taking it into his mouth. Remembering what Starsky had done to him. He mimicked his movements. Then he moved his right hand between Starsky’s legs. He touched the sacks below the cock, gently rolling and squeezing them. He was rewarded by a shout from Starsky, and the gush of him coming in his mouth. He, too, gentled his suction.

When he had taken all Starsky had to give, he moved up to lay beside him. Starsky kissed him and held him close. Both were still breathing heavily and covered with a fine mist of sweat. But neither moved away, content to remain skin to skin.

“I love you, Hutch. I guess I always have, but now it’s… more.”

“Same here, Starsky. I never knew love could feel this… more.”

They both chuckled at realizing how their words seemed to have failed them. Soon they were laughing, and kissing and rolling across the bed, mock-wrestling.

Quieting, they stared into each other’s eyes. Silently, forgiveness was asked for and granted. Hurts were forgotten.

And the love they had had for each other died.

To be replaced with… more.

FIN

 

 


End file.
